


visitation rights

by serenfire



Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Khadgar, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Post Movie, The misadventures of LionTrust in jail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7209944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenfire/pseuds/serenfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two times Khadgar visits Lothar in Stormwind cells, and one time Lothar returns the favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	visitation rights

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of people wanted more fluff, so here's more fluff! And plot. Kinda. 
> 
> Disclaimer: My only knowledge of Warcraft/WoW is from the movie and the wikia. (And Starcraft, but I somehow doubt it counts.)
> 
> If I know you in the real world, don't read this.

Khadgar takes gentle steps into the cells of the castle, careful not to disturb the guard who watches over the lone prisoner. His magic gathers around his fingertips, at the ready; his eyes, not quite brown now, blending in the shadows. 

He’s done this before, so he’s not terribly nervous, but the entire ill-hatched plan relies on the guard not seeing him until it’s too late. He has spells previously relegated to Medivh’s eyes only that are itching to get used. 

As per his usual luck, the prisoner notices him. Lothar stands up abruptly, dragging the heavy chains around his wrists with him, grinning. “Khadgar!” he slurs, sounding both delighted and completely wasted. 

Khadgar stops inches behind the guard, who heaves out an almighty sigh and turns around. The new Guardian freezes, and they look at each other. Khadgar sizes the person up, their body unseen beneath the armor. 

“Hey,” Khadgar says. “I’m here to get the prisoner.” 

“I somehow doubt the Queen sent you,” the guard frowns. “If I don’t let you pass, are you going to turn me into a sheep again?” 

“Oh, that was you. Um, no?” Khadgar smiles. 

“Do you even know what Lothar is in here for?” 

“I assume he got drunk and caused a ruckus that the war council didn’t want to deal with again,” Khadgar shrugs. “It’s been a few hours, and he should have mellowed out. I kind of need him. Official Guardian business.” 

“You’re not far off,” the guard who was a sheep once admits, but doesn’t shift their posture. “But when we finally apprehended him, he had already mooned the Dwarven representatives, and lost millions in abandoned future trade opportunities.” 

Khadgar winces. 

Behind him, Lothar leans against the bars of the cell and gives him a thumbs up. 

“I still need him,” Khadgar says, thoroughly regretting how he got to this place in his life. “I can return him here after I’m done.” 

The guard crosses their arms. “I’m still not going to let you.” 

“Do you really want me to turn you into a sheep again?” Khadgar frowns, and waves his blue-tinged fingertips. “Because I came in here fully prepared to do just that.” 

Khadgar can’t exactly see the guard frown underneath the full faceplate, but he can feel it in his bones. “Fine,” the guard says, stepping aside and sweeping an arm at Lothar. “We can do this the easy way. Just make sure you return him and tell no one that the Stormwind dungeons are this easy to break into.” 

Khadgar mock-solutes the guard, and opens the cell door, waving a hand over Lothar’s wrists, the chains popping off. 

Lothar grins and leans against Khadgar for support. 

“Guess you haven’t exactly sobered up,” Khadgar mutters, tracing the teleportation rune across the stone floor, pulling Lothar towards him. The guard watches, interested. 

“‘M sure there’s a spell for that somewhere in your tower,” Lothar hiccups. 

“Speaking of which,” Khadgar says, pulling the magic between them and waiting for Lothar to shuffle next to him, “how do you like sorting bookshelves?” 

Lothar makes a face. 

“Wait,” the guard says. “Hold up. You want Lothar’s help to organize your bookshelves?” 

Khadgar shrugs. “I’m terrible at it. See you in a few hours!” 

Both the wizard and the warrior wink out of existence. 

The guard sighs. “I’m so fired.” 

* 

The next time Khadgar comes to the aid of an imprisoned Lothar, he skips the middleman altogether and just teleports directly into the cell. Lothar is completely asleep, snoring on the bench, and the only guard on duty is in the corner, smoking and reading in the dim light from the stairwell. 

Khadgar taps Lothar’s shoulder, but the man just yawns and rolls over. 

“Hey,” Khadgar whispers. “I don’t know what you did this time, but if you wake up, we can leave.” 

Lothar doesn’t respond, still snoring. 

Khadgar slaps him. 

Lothar sits up at once, yawning, a hand pressed to his stinging nose. He blinks blearily. “What did you do that for?” 

“You didn’t wake up.” 

“Isn’t there a spell to wake me up instead of hurting me? I have a sunburn, Khadgar.” 

“Sorry about your sunburn,” Khadgar says. “Are you sober?” 

“Of course I’m sober,” Lothar says, and to prove it, he leans in and quickly kisses Khadgar. Khadgar smiles into it; no trace of alcohol on his breath. 

“So why are you in a cell? You are Azeroth nobility, in case you’ve forgotten. Generally speaking, you should probably attempt to stay out of jail.” 

Lothar smiles shiftily. “I didn’t mean to,” he starts. 

“What did you do?” 

Lothar puts up one finger to stall Khadgar’s overactive imagination. To be fair, in Khadgar’s years since leaving the Kirin Tor, he has seen a number of reckless things done that have resulted in prolonged stays in cells. He can’t really imagine Lothar selling weed to an undercover agent of the law, though. 

“I may have accidentally destroyed a house,” he starts. 

It’s so far off Khadgar’s imagined list that the wizard just croaks, “Accidentally?” 

“I was flying,” Lothar says, “and my bird got a leg cramp and fell on a house.” 

Khadgar looks off into the distance. Lothar sounds more annoyed at the bird than penitent. “Did you hurt anyone?” 

“No,” Lothar insists. “It was a house currently in the process of being built.” 

“Wouldn’t paying for the damages suffice instead of jail time?” 

“Well, they said something about how my unlimited taxpayer funds wouldn’t teach me a lesson to feed the birds more potassium, and how a night in jail would help more.” 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Khadgar asks, sitting next to him on the bench. 

Lothar shrugs, and leans his head on Khadgar’s shoulder. “Not really,” he admits. “It’s just a night, and I’m kind of tired. I had longer sentences in my youth.” 

“So have I,” Khadgar smiles, resting his head on top of Lothar’s. “Guess we’ve always been rebels.” 

Lothar scowls. “Rebels, not so much. Reckless, maybe. What have you done to get thrown in jail?” 

“Nothing as innocuous as ride a giant bird,” Khadgar laughs. “I used to travel, and people in the country don’t take well to magic users. I never committed a crime, exactly, but after a while I just stopped practicing it in public.” 

“And now you’re the Guardian,” Lothar says, yawning. “You can practice it whenever you want.” 

Khadgar smiles wistfully. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess I can.” On his shoulder, Lothar is halfway to falling asleep again. 

Khadgar catches the eye of the guard sitting by the exit. The guard waves at him, and Khadgar waves back. 

* 

Lothar rushes down the stone stairs, each step weighing him down. His boomstick is shoved in his belt, and heads turn as he stumbles down, taking two steps at a time. 

Outside of the cells, a guard stops him. “I know who you’re here for, and I can’t let you free him.” 

“His arrest was invalid,” Lothar snarls, looking behind the guard’s imposing figure to the cell in the center of the room, holding the man he seeks. “He can’t be held here. He’s the fucking Guardian.” 

“Unless you’re the Queen herself, you can’t order me to release him,” the guard insists, “and you don’t have the magic to force me to.” 

“Then just let me see him,” Lothar begs. “Please.” 

“You have to turn over all your weapons,” the guard instructs, holding a hand out. 

Lothar glares and shoves the boomstick and a knife into his hands. “Happy?” 

“You may proceed,” the guard says, stepping aside. 

Lothar runs into the room, and looks at Khadgar, who sits in a meditative pose on the bench. He looks utterly at peace, except for the smear of blood on his forehead and his ripped robes. The cuffs around his wrists are tinged with an inhuman blue. 

Lothar knows exactly what the cuffs are: magic suppressors. Khadgar doesn’t have any way to teleport himself out of this. Khadgar takes deep and even breaths, and Lothar watches. He must be remembering the times he was in his youth, when he would be bound in similar ways to this and thrown in county jails for simply practicing his own craft, because others were scared of the power he wielded. 

“Why are you here?” Lothar whispers, reaching a hand through the bars to thread his hand with Khadgar. 

Khadgar slowly opens his eyes and turns to Lothar, gripping his hand back tightly. When his eyes open, he no longer looks like he is at peace. Instead, he is a flame about to ignite, a grenade about to explode. His irises are a deep blue, shining light onto the pale stones, reflecting the magic trapped in his body. 

“I didn’t start the altercation,” Khadgar growls as he juts his chin at the empty cells to prove his point, “but I don’t see the rest of the High Council here. I assume they still have more sway with your sister than I do.” 

“There was an altercation with the Kirin Tor?” Lothar raises an eyebrow, crouching so he’s level with Khadgar, bars between them be damned. 

“Remember what I said about my experiences with using magic across Azeroth?” Khadgar says, tight-lipped. His grip in Lothar’s hand is like a lion about to pounce. The cuffs are hot to Lothar’s touch in an attempt to filter out all the magic Khadgar can call at his will, probably burning his skin in the process. 

“Of course I do,” Lothar whispers, and hold on tighter. 

“The Kirin Tor live in a floating city, isolating themselves from the citizens of Azeroth. What do they know about the hardships of this world? In front of the entire court, they accused me of not contributing enough in my days after leaving them, of not establishing myself, of accumulating a criminal record too large for anyone who wishes to be Guardian. They broke down my life in front of everyone.” 

“And you couldn’t just let them ruin you without a fight,” Lothar finishes. 

“I may have thrown the first punch,” Khadgar admits, “but they were the first to attack me. At least now I know I was right to leave them the first time I had a chance.” 

“You’re still the Guardian, right?” 

“Of course,” Khadgar assures him. “I’m just not going to be working with the Kirin Tor anytime soon.” 

“How long is your sentence?” 

“Oh, a few days,” Khadgar shrugs. “Nothing much.” 

“But you can’t break yourself out if anything important comes up,” Lothar frowns. “Your responsibility is the safety of the entire land; you’re indispensable, even for a few days.” 

“If they need me, they will walk down here and take the cuffs off themselves, and I will get the satisfaction of them begging for my help while burning themselves on an overdose of my magic.” Khadgar wiggles the cuffs, and Lothar can feel the heat intensify. 

“Are your eyes going to stay that way?” 

Khadgar nods and looks at Lothar with the full power of his imbued eyes. “I’m hoping that the Kirin Tor will actually need my help, and a member of the Council has to come down here and look at what they’ve done to me. No wizard should be subjected to this.” 

“I’ll stay with you,” Lothar decides, “until they release you.” 

“You don’t have to do that. You have a kingdom to run,” Khadgar says, and draws his hand back. “You’re the Lion of Azeroth. You can’t stay down here for a few days.” 

“I’ll stay down here if I damn well please,” Lothar says. “I’m showing you public support. And then, after you’re freed, I will find a way to convince the public that they should embrace magic instead of fearing it. Start a campaign or something. Maybe I’ll just send you around with an escort of soldiers to perform magic publicly in the streets.” 

“It’s a waste of resources,” Khadgar says, but he’s smiling faintly now, the creases on his forehead fading. “But if you ask, I’ll do it.” 

“I only wish that I had the power to get you out of these chains,” Lothar says, and he gently pulls Khadgar towards him, to kiss him on the forehead. 

“If you had magic, it would be easy,” Khadgar says, leaning against the bars as if trying to get as near to Lothar as possible. “One touch and these would dissolve.” He turns his wrists around, looking at his fingertips, stained blue. 

“Don’t worry,” Lothar says. “There will be future opportunities to break you out of jail the old-fashioned way.” 

“Which is?” Khadgar raises an eyebrow. 

“Elbow grease and bribery, of course,” Lothar grins. 

Khadgar grabs Lothar’s hand back, threading their fingers together. “I’ll take your word on that,” he says. “You’d better break me out sometime.” 

“I promise.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to talk to me at my [tumblr](http://www.trans-reyskywalker.tumblr.com) I would be absolutely ecstatic.


End file.
